The First Week of School
by Izzy
Summary: A companion peice/prequel to "A Year to Remember". Told through Hannah's diary.


(Rowling owns Hannah. But I wrote her diary)  
  
August 31, 1991  
  
Dear Diary,  
  
As this is my first entry, I should tell you about myself. My name is Hannah  
Abbott, I'm 11 years old in about a week, and I am a witch. I have lived  
in New York City in America, but I am going to England to attend Hogwarts  
School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. But before I get into that, I must explain  
why.   
When my great-great-grandparents on my father's side moved to America about a  
century ago, they were determined that thier daughter, my great-grandmother,  
would attend Hogwarts, like they had. When she was my age she undertook a  
voyage to England and stayed there until she graduated from Hogwarts seven  
years later. My father used to tell me how during the summer she volunteered  
to assist the groundskeeper because there wasn't time to go back to America.   
She returned to America after graduating and eventually married a Muggle, but  
she insisted her children also attend Hogwarts. My grandmother had an easier  
time, because with faster ships she could return home for the summer. My  
father too sailed back and forth each year to attend the school like the rest  
of the family, so of course I was going to go to Hogwarts.  
My father got my mother to agree to uphold the family tradition, and plans for  
my eventual attending of Hogwarts were formed from the day I was born.  
Galleons and Sickles were converted into American Dollars and stored in a  
Muggle bank to pay for transporting me. My father gave me several of his old  
books;he made sure I was reading them as soon as my reading skills were good  
enough. I enrolled in a Muggle Elementary school(mother insisted for some  
reason) at age five knowing I would be leaving after 5th grade.  
It was odd, knowing I was a witch and being unable to tell anyone. My parents  
made that quite clear, and even at that early age I had already picked up that  
nobody was supposed to know we were special. I was never close to my friends  
for this reason.   
Then, in 4th grade, I met Alfred Fadton. There was something...different  
about him. I was probably the first to really notice it. And yet we became  
good friends. He had been the best friend I ever had, but still we couldn't  
get too close, because I was terrified I would accidently let slip my secret.  
But then he started to tell me about how strange things happened to him, and I  
told my parents, and they told me he might be a Muggle-born wizard. So I  
invited him over to my house. My parents met him outside, and used some sort  
of detector to deduce he was, indeed, a wizard.  
After that Alfred and I were inseperable. We went shopping in Runonway(a  
secret street where one can buy all sorts of magical things)and bought our  
school supplies together, as well as a pair of black kittens. He called his  
Colbert, I called mine Ethelbeth. I told him everything about the wizarding  
world. I even taught him how to play Quidditch. But all good things must come  
to an end. He was to stay in America and I would be going off to England.  
Like everything else, my journey was planned out thouroughly right from the  
beginning of my life. Right after I turned ten, father went to a travel  
agency and suceeded in getting a single plane ticket for me, and informed the  
agency we would keep in touch. Indeed, about a week ago, he went to talk  
about getting a ticket to fly back to America at the end of the year, and one  
to fly to England again after that.  
Last night we packed my things very carefully into three suitcases and a small  
bag that would serve as my carry-on. Father placed Ethelbeth in a special  
sleep so that she could safely travel in a suitcase, saying she would wake up  
when I pulled her out, then we packed her too. He also enchanted various  
things I was packing, including Ethelbeth, that I wasn't supposed to be  
carrying on a plane, so the airport sensors would not detect them. He also  
placed a charm on me to insure I would not bothered by customs officials.   
Then, to ease the nervous atmosphere, he took a piece of wood and turned it  
into you. He told me I could keep you to write in. I would have written last  
night, but you were packed in the carry-on.  
We woke up early this morning, and headed to the airport almost immediately,  
even though the plane didn't take off until 1:30 P.M., and thanks to time  
zones, I wouldn't be there until past midnight. By 7:30 A.M. I was checked  
in. My ticket was for British Airways, World Traveler(Third Class), Flight  
375 to London-Heathrow, and thanks to our early arrival I got a window seat.   
According to the man there I was the first to check in. He was pretty  
surprised when he learned I was going alone. I guess it was strange for  
someone so young to be traveling without parent or guardian. After that we  
began to walk around the airport, and proceeded to the gate around 10:30.   
Then my parents said goodbye for the year. It scared me a little to be  
without them, especially when people began giving me stares. Several people  
thought I was lost, and I had to explain to them I was going to a special  
school in England and my parents weren't coming with me because of money  
problems.(I had a story prepared if they asked about the school, but none of  
them did).   
My parents left me with some American dollars and English Pounds. I used to  
the dollars to buy myself lunch at 11:00, as my father had advised me. Then I  
waited at the gate, feeling extremely nervous. At 12:30 the plane began  
boarding. Once I got on the plane I felt slightly better, knowing I was  
definitly going now.  
It is a two hours into the flight and I have decided I much prefer  
broomsticks. I am getting bored so I retrieved you from the upper compartment  
and wrote. I will write more tommorrow.  
  
Sincerly,  
Hannah  
  
September 1, 1991  
  
Dear Diary,  
  
The flight was very boring. My father had advised me to sleep, but I was too  
nervous. I finally drifted off, but got less then three hours of sleep before  
we landed at London-Heathrow at 1:34 A.M. Even at that late hour the airport  
was crowded with arrivals.  
It was a good thing I had prepared a story about my school, because the man  
who checked my passport asked me a number of questions. Father has told me he  
has insured they will not find out I am lying(he didn't say how). Then I  
went to the baggage carousel and retrieved the three suitcases. My father had  
given me instructions before I left on how I was to get to Hogwarts from  
there. Taking my suitcases, I went down to the level marked London  
Underground and used the Pounds to buy a day farecard. Though my  
eventual destination on the Underground was King's Cross St. Pancreas, my  
father advised me not to go directly there, because the train station would  
not be open yet. So I took the Piccadilly Line to Gloucester Road, then got  
off and got on the Circle Line, intending to ride it around at least once.   
Then I fell asleep. I have just woken up and the train station should be open  
now, so I while I write here I intend to get off next time this train reaches  
King's Cross.  
  
Sincerly,  
Hannah  
  
September 2, 1991  
  
Dear Diary,  
  
I have got so much to tell you today. I should have written at the end of  
yesterday, but I was way too tired.  
To resume:though once again I got several stares, I suceeded in getting off  
the Underground at King's Cross at 7:28. The next and last part of the  
journey was to take the Hogwarts Express from Platform Nine and  
Three-Quarters. The platform, as he explained it, was behind the barrier  
between Platforms Nine and Ten, which, althought quite solid for Muggles,  
would let me pass through. He also advised me run into the barrier if I got  
nervous, but otherwise not to try and attract Muggle attention. I was very  
nervous, and took the barrier at a run.  
I got through the barrier and arrived on an empty platform. The train hadn't  
arrived yet. About half an hour after I arrived, a boy arrived and sat down  
next to me. He introduced himself as Ernie MacMillian. He asked me what  
house I thought I would be in. I didn't know. I knew my father was hoping I  
would be in Ravenclaw, because he had been. When I told Ernie this, he  
replied that because your parents were in a house was no reason to be in that  
house. His parents had both been in Slytherin, and they had thrown a fit when  
they heard his brother had been put in Hufflepuff. Said he should drop out.   
After he described the whole story to me, I decided any dissaproval my father  
might have if I wasn't put in Ravenclaw was nothing.   
The train arrived, and we got on together. Before we knew it, it was pulling  
out of the station. On the train he introduced me to a friend of his,  
Justin Finch-Fletchley. Justin seemed very fond of Ethelbeth.  
The train ride took hours, and it was dark when we got out. The older  
students went one way and we went the other, led by a giant man, who someone  
told me was called Hagrid. He pointed out Hogwarts as soon as it came into  
sight. It's a magnificent castle, set on a high mountain. My father's  
stories hadn't prepared me for the beauty of the sight.  
Father had already told me of the tradition of the gameskeeper(Hagrid) sailing  
with the first-years across the lake, and off we went. I was in a boat with  
Justin and two others. He'd also told me about how they're led in and sorted.  
We were greeted by a woman called Professor McGonagall. My father had told me  
about Professor McGonagall, but when he was in school, she was new, and  
younger then most of the teachers. Her young age hadn't stopped her from  
being one of the strictest teachers he'd ever had. Now she wasn't a young  
woman anymore, but I had the feeling she'd only gotten stricter.  
Professor McGonagall led us into the Great Hall, which was more beautiful then  
father could ever describe. There were four tables, one for each House. Then  
McGonagall brought in the Sorting Hat. It was over a thousand years old, and  
wise enough to look into each of our minds and decide which House we belonged  
in. And since we were Sorted alphabeticley, I got to be the first to try it  
on.   
I suppose I would have been nervous in any case, but it is even more scary,  
when you have to be the first to try on the hat, and there are a thousand  
things you fear where you could otherwise think, "Well, it worked for so-and-so  
so surely it will work for me."   
When I put the hat on, it muttered something to itself before sending me to  
Hufflepuff. It also sent Ernie and Justin to Hufflepuff.   
And diary, guess who was also starting this year(and ended up in Gryffindor,  
but I guess that makes sense) Harry Potter, the boy who defeated You-Know-Who!  
By then I was very tired. The Headmaster, Professor Dumbledore, said a few  
more things, and we ate. Then we were led to the Hufflepuff common room, which  
looked plain but comfortable with brown walls, several green couches, and a  
thick black carpet. There was light coming from somewhere, but I couldn't  
figure out where. Then up to a dormitory with the other first-year girls I  
went. I fell asleep pretty quickly.   
I have been very busy today. It seems father made magic look much easier  
then it actually is. I would tell you about my classes, but I am incredibly  
tired, and I still have not sent owls to either my father or Alfred, and I  
promised to write to both at first opportunity.  
  
Sincerly,  
Hannah  
  
September 4, 1991  
  
Dear Diary,  
  
I am absolutly miserable! I just got back from Double Astronomy with the  
Slytherins.  
The astronomy teacher is Professor Sinistra. She showed us the planets and we  
started to take some notes. We were very quiet, which was just fine with me.   
With my American accent, I always feel akward when speaking or when around  
people speaking. Better we be silent.  
But we weren't silent. I could hear Slytherins whispering behind me. When I  
asked them to be quiet, they pretended they didn't understand me. Then they  
started taunting me, saying I spoke funny. Then one of the boys told me to  
go home, because I didn't belong, and I started to cry. Justin stood up for  
me, telling him I had more right to be there then he did. And he-he called  
him a mudblood! And that he had no right to be there at all! Ernie  
punched him for this. Professor Sinistra overheard at this point, and gave  
both Ernie and the boy-whose name was Malfoy-detentions, and took points away  
from Hufflepuff and Slytherin. And it's all my fault! Maybe Malfoy's right.   
Maybe I don't belong.  
  
Sincerly,  
Hannah  
  
September 5, 1991  
  
Dear Diary,  
  
Today at breakfast I was rather glum over the events of last night. Ernie  
noticed. He told me it wasn't my fault at all, and there was nothing wrong  
with the way I spoke. And that Justin was right when he said I had more right  
to be there then Malfoy did, because Malfoy's father had been one of  
You-Know-Who's supporters. The Slytherins laughed at me when I passed them in  
the halls, and I got so angry. I yelled at them and ran away as they laughed.  
We've had Herbology with the Gryffindors, and they seemed very nice. Father  
used to tell me Gryffindor and Slytherin hate each other, and this makes  
things hard for Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws, but it seems more to me that the  
Slytherins are the only ones that make it hard for people. I've also heard  
they've won the House Cup six years in a row. I sure hope they lose this  
year, and I don't even care who beats them.  
  
Sincerly,  
Hannah  



End file.
